Post by brooklet on Sept 18, 2006 9:12:21 GMT -5
THE WINEPRESS OF OBEDIENCE
Some leaders are born, the knitting of those threads part of God’s secret weaving within the womb. Others are birthed in the winepress of obedience.
When God first found Gideon, a man of timidity assailed by the circumstances of life, surrounded by enemies and the anxiety born of their presence, God came to a winepress. Not to find a man making wine, but He came to sit beneath a terebinth tree (Judges 6:12) until a man, threshing wheat in hiding, would listen to His voice.
I love how God loves us, for the LORD came, not in judgment, but in encouragement, with a commission Gideon never dreamed of, or probably ever wanted to hear.
“The LORD is with you, you mighty man of valor!”
I doubt anything could have shocked Gideon more. Why? Because God saw him, not as he now stood. A man standing on a threshing floor, hiding from an enemy. Covered, not in warrior’s wear, but from head to toe with the itchy, beaten pieces of chaff clinging to every part of his sweating body. No! God saw Gideon for who he would be[/b], in all the victory of what would come in the winepress of obedience.
Can you hear those words, falling about this beaten man, like a soothing, comforting balm to this bruised and questioning soul? I love how God loves us! He isn’t afraid of our questions. He understands the ‘eyesight’ battles we have. He meets us where we are .... in the midst of our own winepress, built for pressing a river of life from bruising grapes, even if we’re using it to hide in ... even if we’re covered with chaff ... itchy, scratchy, prickly chaff. And he reminds us that we are warriors. Warriors who are mighty in Him. That we are not alone, despite the myopia of our vision. That it is He, Himself, who is with us.
I understand the Gideon who stands here. His heart beats with my own, his questions and observations about the life he’s immersed in echoing mine. A prisoner not just to physical bondage, but spiritual darkness lies all about him, and he doesn’t understand. He’s lost hope. He doesn’t even try any more.
Can you see, can you feel, the despair that must have filled Gideon’s soul when suddenly God appeared to Him. Not in chastisement. But, wonder of wonder, in gentle encouragement, in assuring love. And all the questions, all the despair, all the frustration bursts forth from Gideon’s mouth, and God ..... loved Him forward, with gentle grace.
“Go in the strength you have...”
I can just see Gideon, eyes popping open, head pulling back. I imagine he even took a step or two backwards, just trying to keep his balance.
In the strength I have??? Doesn’t He see where I am? I’m hiding .... here .... in a winepress, but its me being pressed. Every drop of strength pressed out, till I am empty. In the strength I have??
I can hear the hollow laughter filling that chamber like an empty whisper, can’t you? Then a dawning, so very dim at first, begins to light Gideon’s eyes. What was but a spark begins to grow, until his eyes take on a glowing of understanding ... of hope.
The strength I have is You, Lord. The only strength remaining in me is Your presence, Your heartbeat...in harmony with mine. You will be with me, Lord? You are with me! Even here, even now.
The voice speaks again, filling the winepress and reverberating throughout Gideon’s being, into my own heart, meeting my own need.
“Surely, the Lord is with you, you mighty man of valor!”
I love how God loves us, how He sees us, how He meets us ... in Himself!
And He did just that with Gideon. God never wastes anything! Not the opportunity to redeem our choices, to walk us forward in the understanding we have, nor does God waste those precious times of our obedience.
Gideon, a prisoner to his circumstances, a prisoner to the image of a God Gideon had defined by those circumstances, suddenly finds himself confronted with GOD[/i], showing Himself to be so much more. Jehovah, the God who IS with him; the God who reveals Himself as peace in a land, in a life, that knows anything but peace. And Gideon lays hold of this truth, takes it in to himself, uses it to define a clearer picture in His heart of the God he’s called to worship and obey. Without being told, Gideon proclaims the lesson heard and believed by building an altar he names The Lord Is Peace. And God takes Gideon, that same night, at his moment of confession, and stretches him…..spiritually…..stretches him in the arena of faith. God calls upon him act!
If we see nothing else in the beginning of Gideon’s faith-walk, we learn the core of faith, of obedience. Faith is not passive, it’s active! It demands response. God having declared Himself with[/b] Gideon basically says to Gideon, “Now that you say you believe Me, prove it! And God asks Gideon to start in his own house, in his own neighborhood. It was the perfect test for Gideon, and God knew it. For God knew what lay ahead in His plans for Gideon, and if Gideon couldn’t trust Him now, how could he ever face what lay down the road?
I love Gideon! Surrounded by Hebrews having forgotten God, having adapted to the ways of the word, fully embracing them, what God asked of Gideon could hardly have been more significant. Like Jesus, Gideon had to arrive at the point he could fully say, “Into your hands I commit my life. I trust You to be with me wherever You ask me to walk.” He believed, but I can just hear him saying, “Lord, I believe; help my unbelief!”
So Gideon obeyed, in the veil of the night!
Can’t you see it, that baby step? Faithful, but tottering. With each swing of faith’s axe, however, Gideon’s boldness grew. As the oxen’s throats were cut and the offerings, of self and blood, laid out before God, Gideon’s sense of God’s very presence with him grew stronger and stronger. That’s what obedience does. The winepress was at work, a leader being birthed.
When next God shows us Gideon, he’s hardly recognizable. We find him on a mountaintop, having known the wonder, the power, and the transforming work of being in God’s presence. The wings of exhilaration still bear him up. Then, Gideon hears God speak again.
Gideon rests on the security of the mountaintop with 32,000 fighting men, and the enemy on the valley floor below. Oh, the protection the mountaintop affords!
But, wait! Surely that’s not God’s voice I hear!
I don’t know what words screamed across Gideon’s mind, but I know what words would be thundering across mine, with my heart following in fast pursuit.
You want what, Lord? You want me to divest myself of all these warriors? You’re going to leave me only how many? Alright! Alright! I’m listening. I’m learning this obeying thing. At least I’ve got the advantage and security of the mountaintop.
You … want me to … what? To leave the mountaintop? But, I’m up here with You, Lord, and the valley’s over-run with the enemy! I hear You! I hear You, but I’ve got eyes, You know. You given them to me, after all. Ok! Ok! Don’t trust the ‘eyesight.’ But, You can’t be serious? The valley! You want me in the valley?
But that’s the nature of God. To lead us from the mountaintop, where we were never intended to live, and move us into the valley. It’s in the valley we discover the fruit of His promises. It’s in the valley where the seeds of our faith produce the fruit of the vine. It’s the fruit of the vine, when submitted to the winepress, which issues forth the sweet wine of obedience’s joy.
On the mountaintop we’re tempted to stand in our own strength, but it’s in the valley when all we can hope in is Him.
I don’t know if it lies within the nature of man to choose the valley over the mountaintop. But I hear this voice, and it seems to be telling me there’s a secret I’ve yet to learn.
The valley, My Child. The valley. I want you in the valley. Come, with Me, to the valley and see My hand of deliverance at work on your behalf.
Gideon not only listened, he heard. And in his obedience, he led, straight into the heart of God.
© DeAnna Brooks
4 April 2005
Some leaders are born, the knitting of those threads part of God’s secret weaving within the womb. Others are birthed in the winepress of obedience.
When God first found Gideon, a man of timidity assailed by the circumstances of life, surrounded by enemies and the anxiety born of their presence, God came to a winepress. Not to find a man making wine, but He came to sit beneath a terebinth tree (Judges 6:12) until a man, threshing wheat in hiding, would listen to His voice.
I love how God loves us, for the LORD came, not in judgment, but in encouragement, with a commission Gideon never dreamed of, or probably ever wanted to hear.
“The LORD is with you, you mighty man of valor!”
I doubt anything could have shocked Gideon more. Why? Because God saw him, not as he now stood. A man standing on a threshing floor, hiding from an enemy. Covered, not in warrior’s wear, but from head to toe with the itchy, beaten pieces of chaff clinging to every part of his sweating body. No! God saw Gideon for who he would be[/b], in all the victory of what would come in the winepress of obedience.
Can you hear those words, falling about this beaten man, like a soothing, comforting balm to this bruised and questioning soul? I love how God loves us! He isn’t afraid of our questions. He understands the ‘eyesight’ battles we have. He meets us where we are .... in the midst of our own winepress, built for pressing a river of life from bruising grapes, even if we’re using it to hide in ... even if we’re covered with chaff ... itchy, scratchy, prickly chaff. And he reminds us that we are warriors. Warriors who are mighty in Him. That we are not alone, despite the myopia of our vision. That it is He, Himself, who is with us.
I understand the Gideon who stands here. His heart beats with my own, his questions and observations about the life he’s immersed in echoing mine. A prisoner not just to physical bondage, but spiritual darkness lies all about him, and he doesn’t understand. He’s lost hope. He doesn’t even try any more.
Can you see, can you feel, the despair that must have filled Gideon’s soul when suddenly God appeared to Him. Not in chastisement. But, wonder of wonder, in gentle encouragement, in assuring love. And all the questions, all the despair, all the frustration bursts forth from Gideon’s mouth, and God ..... loved Him forward, with gentle grace.
“Go in the strength you have...”
I can just see Gideon, eyes popping open, head pulling back. I imagine he even took a step or two backwards, just trying to keep his balance.
In the strength I have??? Doesn’t He see where I am? I’m hiding .... here .... in a winepress, but its me being pressed. Every drop of strength pressed out, till I am empty. In the strength I have??
I can hear the hollow laughter filling that chamber like an empty whisper, can’t you? Then a dawning, so very dim at first, begins to light Gideon’s eyes. What was but a spark begins to grow, until his eyes take on a glowing of understanding ... of hope.
The strength I have is You, Lord. The only strength remaining in me is Your presence, Your heartbeat...in harmony with mine. You will be with me, Lord? You are with me! Even here, even now.
The voice speaks again, filling the winepress and reverberating throughout Gideon’s being, into my own heart, meeting my own need.
“Surely, the Lord is with you, you mighty man of valor!”
I love how God loves us, how He sees us, how He meets us ... in Himself!
And He did just that with Gideon. God never wastes anything! Not the opportunity to redeem our choices, to walk us forward in the understanding we have, nor does God waste those precious times of our obedience.
Gideon, a prisoner to his circumstances, a prisoner to the image of a God Gideon had defined by those circumstances, suddenly finds himself confronted with GOD[/i], showing Himself to be so much more. Jehovah, the God who IS with him; the God who reveals Himself as peace in a land, in a life, that knows anything but peace. And Gideon lays hold of this truth, takes it in to himself, uses it to define a clearer picture in His heart of the God he’s called to worship and obey. Without being told, Gideon proclaims the lesson heard and believed by building an altar he names The Lord Is Peace. And God takes Gideon, that same night, at his moment of confession, and stretches him…..spiritually…..stretches him in the arena of faith. God calls upon him act!
If we see nothing else in the beginning of Gideon’s faith-walk, we learn the core of faith, of obedience. Faith is not passive, it’s active! It demands response. God having declared Himself with[/b] Gideon basically says to Gideon, “Now that you say you believe Me, prove it! And God asks Gideon to start in his own house, in his own neighborhood. It was the perfect test for Gideon, and God knew it. For God knew what lay ahead in His plans for Gideon, and if Gideon couldn’t trust Him now, how could he ever face what lay down the road?
I love Gideon! Surrounded by Hebrews having forgotten God, having adapted to the ways of the word, fully embracing them, what God asked of Gideon could hardly have been more significant. Like Jesus, Gideon had to arrive at the point he could fully say, “Into your hands I commit my life. I trust You to be with me wherever You ask me to walk.” He believed, but I can just hear him saying, “Lord, I believe; help my unbelief!”
So Gideon obeyed, in the veil of the night!
Can’t you see it, that baby step? Faithful, but tottering. With each swing of faith’s axe, however, Gideon’s boldness grew. As the oxen’s throats were cut and the offerings, of self and blood, laid out before God, Gideon’s sense of God’s very presence with him grew stronger and stronger. That’s what obedience does. The winepress was at work, a leader being birthed.
When next God shows us Gideon, he’s hardly recognizable. We find him on a mountaintop, having known the wonder, the power, and the transforming work of being in God’s presence. The wings of exhilaration still bear him up. Then, Gideon hears God speak again.
Gideon rests on the security of the mountaintop with 32,000 fighting men, and the enemy on the valley floor below. Oh, the protection the mountaintop affords!
But, wait! Surely that’s not God’s voice I hear!
I don’t know what words screamed across Gideon’s mind, but I know what words would be thundering across mine, with my heart following in fast pursuit.
You want what, Lord? You want me to divest myself of all these warriors? You’re going to leave me only how many? Alright! Alright! I’m listening. I’m learning this obeying thing. At least I’ve got the advantage and security of the mountaintop.
You … want me to … what? To leave the mountaintop? But, I’m up here with You, Lord, and the valley’s over-run with the enemy! I hear You! I hear You, but I’ve got eyes, You know. You given them to me, after all. Ok! Ok! Don’t trust the ‘eyesight.’ But, You can’t be serious? The valley! You want me in the valley?
But that’s the nature of God. To lead us from the mountaintop, where we were never intended to live, and move us into the valley. It’s in the valley we discover the fruit of His promises. It’s in the valley where the seeds of our faith produce the fruit of the vine. It’s the fruit of the vine, when submitted to the winepress, which issues forth the sweet wine of obedience’s joy.
On the mountaintop we’re tempted to stand in our own strength, but it’s in the valley when all we can hope in is Him.
I don’t know if it lies within the nature of man to choose the valley over the mountaintop. But I hear this voice, and it seems to be telling me there’s a secret I’ve yet to learn.
The valley, My Child. The valley. I want you in the valley. Come, with Me, to the valley and see My hand of deliverance at work on your behalf.
Gideon not only listened, he heard. And in his obedience, he led, straight into the heart of God.
© DeAnna Brooks
4 April 2005